


A Little Warm In My Heart

by pensively



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensively/pseuds/pensively
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Start with Jim and Spock on a romantic getaway in a secluded mountain cabin. Add an unexpected storm and a broken heater; finish with a cozy fire, soft blankets, hot tea and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Warm In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plaidshirtjimkirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/gifts).



> Written for plaidshirtjimkirk, who has been so kind and welcoming to me as a newbie in the TOS fandom. Thanks for being awesome.<3
> 
> The title is taken from Tori Amos' "Winter".
> 
> Thank you to my dear friend (who does not have a fandom handle and wishes to remain anonymous) for the excellent and thorough beta.

The wind howled through the evergreens, shaking their boughs and coating them with ice. Bitter and sleet-laden, it burned Jim’s cheeks and nose and numbed his lips as it whipped past his face. Despite the hood drawn close around his face and throat, freezing rain had somehow crept beneath his coat and down into his bright yellow galoshes, wetting him through to the skin. Jim trudged back around the cabin and up onto the clapboard porch, stamping his boots clean as he went. Wrenching the door open with a grunt, he stepped inside as quickly as his cold-stiffened limbs would allow. In the absence of a functioning heater, he didn’t dare allow any precious heat to escape.

The front door opened directly into the cabin’s cozy living area, with only a shallow vestibule between the entry and the back of the overstuffed plaid sofa. Jim stripped off his heavy layers, dropping the sodden parka on the weathered floorboards by the entrance with a mental note to pick it up _later_. He pried the rubber boots from his feet and pulled off his wet tennis shoes, kicking them to the side of the door with a muttered, “That’s better.” 

Jim looked over the back of the couch, only to see that Spock no longer reclined on the sofa. Instead, he stood in the adjacent kitchen, his long fingers clasped around a steaming mug of tea. A brightly-colored blanket was wrapped around his shoulders seemingly at odds with his dignified countenance, but Spock looked unruffled as usual as he gazed at Jim with concern in his dark eyes. 

He joined Spock in the kitchen, rubbing at the damp flannel on his arms in a fruitless attempt to warm them as he peered into the kettle. Spock had considerately refilled it after preparing his tea and left it ready to be heated once more. Jim placed it on the gas burner and turned the knob on the old cast iron stove, watching the flame come to life beneath the worn copper pot. It was true that Spock’s herbal tea wasn’t Jim’s favorite thing to drink, but something hot would only help his chilled state and coffee would be a poor choice at this late hour. 

“Heater’s shot,” he said, coming back to Spock’s side and leaning against the countertop. “It’ll need a new heating coil, but of course replacement parts for a relic like that won’t be easy to come by. Special order, probably. I won’t be able to fix it tonight. Damned inconvenient time for it to break, in this weather.”

“The timing is unfortunate,” Spock agreed. “Jim, it would be advisable for you to remove your wet clothing.”

Jim looked up at Spock, a little grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “You just want me out of my clothes, don’t you, Mr. Spock?”

“It is the logical thing to do, Jim.” Spock said, reaching out to run a hand down Jim’s sleeve-covered arm as if he could measure the exact level of water saturation in the fabric simply by touch. “The fact that it is logical does not mean I cannot also find it pleasing, should you do so.”

“All right, you win,” Jim said, letting himself smile fully. “The kettle will need a few minutes to boil again, anyway. Let’s go over by the fire.”

“That is agreeable.”

The living area was dim, lit only by the fire burning cheerfully in the hearth that anchored the space. Comprised of rocks worn smooth by hundreds of years of flowing river water, it stood tall and wide, with space enough that three men abreast could stand within it, should they be so inclined. Jim approached the glowing flames, sighing in contentment as the heat radiated over his body, warming his limbs and chasing the chill from his bones. He stripped off his damp clothing and peeled the wet socks from his feet, spreading them out on the heated stone to dry. Standing in front of the fire clad only in his boxers and undershirt, he soaked in the warmth and looked over at Spock fondly. 

Spock stood at Jim’s side, sipping his tea in companionable silence. Their bond hummed between them, peaceful and warm. It was a great comfort to have Spock near him, not only in body, but within his mind and soul. Jim leaned to the side and gently bumped his shoulder against Spock’s.

“Of all the times for a freak storm to come up...right in the middle of our relaxing trip to the mountains. It’ll be snow tonight, and a lot of it. We may even get snowed in.”

“Statistically speaking, Jim, the odds of a weather event of this nature occurring in this location at this time of year are-”

“High, I know,” Jim interrupted with an apologetic expression. “But I’d hoped our romantic getaway would go smoothly. Given how hard it was to pull ourselves away from work, it ought to.”

Spock looked at Jim thoughtfully. “Is it not considered a romantic experience to sleep with one’s partner in front of a fire?”

Jim laughed. “It is, although I suppose we’re lacking the bearskin rug. I’m sure we can make do with all the bedding and a few quilts.”

“Indeed, I am certain that we can fashion an appropriate bed from the available linens. Stay here and continue warming yourself while I retrieve them.” As Spock spoke, the kettle whistled, and Jim turned toward the kitchen. “Jim, I will prepare your tea. Remain by the fire.”

“Careful, Spock,” Jim said mischievously. “You might spoil me.”

Spock arched one brow, his face as impassive as usual, but his eyes held the teasing glint Jim loved. “It is logical to care for one’s mate, is it not?”

“Far be it from me to argue with logic,” Jim chuckled. Even after so many years together it never failed to fill him with joy to see Spock at ease with himself, teasing Jim in his own quiet way. It was a side of Spock very few were privileged to see, and Jim knew well how lucky he was. He reached over to the aged rocking chair angled beside the fireplace and picked up the blue chenille throw draped over its rounded back and wrapped it around himself, savoring the warmth and softness. As he looked over toward the kitchen, he saw a mug of tea steeping on the counter and Spock disappearing into the cabin’s one bedroom.

It was a snug little space, dominated by the antique brass bed with its shiny round finials and intricate scrollwork. They’d slept peacefully and well, these past three nights, curled beneath heirloom quilts that smelt of the clean mountain air in which they’d been hung to dry. Jim had looked forward to resting in that bed again tonight -- perhaps to seeing Spock’s fingers clenched tightly around the metal of the bed frame as his face contorted in ecstasy -- but he was quickly coming around to the idea of bedding down in front of the fireplace in a nest of soft linens. In the gentle glow of the flames, Spock’s angles would be limned in gold, and the faintest flush of green would stain his cheeks. Jim imagined running his hands over his love’s body, pulling him close and kissing him tenderly. Such pleasure they would share…

Jim’s reverie was interrupted by Spock’s return, his arms full with the thick down mattress pad, soft cotton sheets, the quilts, and heavy woolen blankets. With an ease that came from years of working together, they constructed a comfortable pallet as close to the open hearth as was safe. Jim patted the makeshift bed with satisfaction, and Spock retrieved Jim’s mug of tea, handing it to him wordlessly before removing all but his underclothes and joining him in the center of their nest.

Jim leaned against Spock and sipped the unsweetened tea, smiling ruefully. “I’m afraid I still haven’t managed to acquire a taste for this stuff...but it’s hot and just what I need.” Tilting his head he pressed a soft kiss against Spock’s cheek, and then his lips as Spock turned his face to Jim. “I love you.”

Spock’s face softened. “And I, you.” He brushed his index and middle finger against Jim’s, and drew the top-most quilt close around their shoulders, shrouding them in warmth as they drowsed before the flames. “It is not,” Spock said at length, “an unpleasant way to spend an evening.”

“No it isn’t,” Jim said softly. “It never is, when I’m with you.”


End file.
